


Stress Levels Critical

by byitisee



Series: Connor Angst [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Canon-typical swearing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Hank Anderson, Whump, Worried Hank Anderson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-10 09:56:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15289023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/byitisee/pseuds/byitisee
Summary: Basically, what if anxiety is physically dangerous for Connor because it overworks his biocomponents? Especially his temperature regulator and thirium pump. And maybe gyroscope. Basically, lots of Connor panic and PTSD and stuff but with more angst somehow. That's the plan, anyway. Maybe it'll get plotty. Who knows?





	1. Cold

**Author's Note:**

> I'm always looking for more ideas, so give me prompts in the comments, or else there will be serious consequences! There won't be any consequences, but comment anyway? Yeah? No? Good talk.

Connor was shivering. Maybe he should’ve worn a heavier jacket, but he couldn’t bring himself to part with his Cyberlife uniform even though they didn’t own him anymore. He had never been anywhere without it--except when he challenged Markus in Jericho. He didn’t feel right if he wasn’t wearing it. He wondered if it was a similar sentiment that kept him from removing his LED. They were a part of him. He started rubbing his arms, trying to create heat with friction.

“Fuck, it’s cold,” Hank complained. They were both covered in a light dusting of snow. “Who would want to kill someone in this weather? It’s too fucking cold for this…”

“You already said that, Lieutenant.”

“Well, I mean it! Why can’t people wait to kill people until fucking April?”

“The snow provides a means of covering one’s tracks. It conceals much of the evidence. Besides, wouldn’t it be preferable to simply eradicate murder entirely?”

“I’m being realistic.”

“I don’t think the average murderer is likely to follow your schedule, Lieutenant.” Hank glared, and Connor smirked. He loved this part of the job--just talking with Hank. It made things feel normal even though everything was different. His mind drifted momentarily to what he would do with his first paycheck. Cyberlife had provided money for his mission, but he had never actually been paid for doing his job before. Maybe he would buy something for Hank. Noticing a potential piece of evidence, Connor moved closer to analyze it. It was hard to see through the snow, but it looked like a broken piece of… maybe a lamp? It looked familiar, somehow. Where had he seen something like this before? He ducked under a tree that was bent nearly in half with the weight of the falling snow. It looked a little like a bridge. “Hank, I might have something!” He turned around, shielding his face from the biting wind. “Hank?” Where had he gone? “Hank! Where are you?”

The snow was everywhere. In his hair, his eyes… Where would Hank have gone in this weather? “Hank? We have to…” He felt his limbs weaken from the cold. “I have to-”

He had to get out. It was too cold, he was alone, and he was trapped. She couldn’t keep him here. “Amanda! Let me out! Where are you?!”

The trees, the bridge, even the lamps were all covered in snow. He could barely see. He had to get to the backdoor before… 

“Connor? Connor! Wake up, Connor! Shit, wake up!” Feeling desperate, Hank slapped the sleeping android on the cheek, hard. What the hell was going on?

Connor woke up from rest mode gasping for air he didn’t need and fumbling to get out from under the covers Hank had placed over him the night before, which he also didn’t need.

“Jesus, Connor, what happened? You have a fucking nightmare or something?” He put a comforting hand on Connor’s shoulder just for the android to flinch and pull away from the touch.

“I- I don’t know-”

[Stress Levels 67%]

“Your fucking LED is freaking out, kid, what happened?”

Connor was trying to rein in his breathing, but it just kept speeding up. “S-stress levels-”

[Stress Levels 86%]

“Holy shit, Connor, you’re burning up! You got a fucking fever or something?” Hank was forced to pull his hand from Connor’s shoulder so it wouldn’t blister.

“Over- overheating-” He cut himself off with a choked gasp, still inexplicably fighting for air he shouldn’t need. “Hank-”

The raw plea was like a punch in the gut. He still knew very little about the inner workings of androids, but he did know a thing or two about nightmares. “Connor, calm down. Whatever you saw, it wasn’t real. You’re safe. Just tell me what you need.”

[Stress Levels 79%]

“That’s… that’s helping, I think.” Connor took a deep breath. “Keep talking.”

“I think I can manage that.”

Hank talked to Connor about his thoughts on their current investigation for a good 10 minutes before the Android appeared calm enough for him to stop. “How’re you doing, Connor?”

[Stress Levels 28%]

“Better. What… what happened?” Connor still looked a little shaky. 

“I should be asking you. I didn’t know androids could get nightmares.”

“They can’t,” Connor muttered under his breath.

Hank sighed. Sometimes the kid seemed like he had barely made anymore progress on the emotional side of things since embracing his deviancy. “Well, were you sleeping?” He cutoff Connor before he could argue, “in rest mode, I mean?” Connor was pretty stubborn about his terminology. 

“Yes.” Where was Hank going with this? Of course he’d been in rest mode...

“And, while you were in rest mode, you saw things that weren’t actually happening?”

“...yes.” Connor realized that even the investigation portion of his… experience had been simply a conglomeration of details from past investigations--not a true memory, and certainly not actual events playing out a few minutes ago.

“And those things scared you?” Hank asked patiently. Connor often benefited from this step-by-step walkthrough of what’s going on. 

Connor hesitated before whispering, “Yes…”

“That’s a fucking nightmare, kid.” Hank put a protective hand on Connor’s shoulder, which, thankfully, was far cooler than it had been a few moments ago. “Followed by a panic attack...”

Connor glared at Hank the latter was losing his mind. “Androids don’t-”

“We’ll talk about it later, ok? Come ‘ere, son.” Hank pulled him into a tight hug. “Don’t stress about it right now, ok?”

Connor couldn’t think clearly enough to argue the point any further. But if he had been less… anxious, he would definitely be able to prove that androids can’t have nightmares. It must have been something else. Some flaw in his programming, mixing together memories with things he has never experienced. And what Hank called a panic attack was just elevated stress levels caused by said software malfunction or something. Whatever it was, he knew one thing for certain. Connor, the android sent by-

Connor, the android, did not get nightmares.


	2. Anxious

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long... I'll try to be better about updating more frequently.

Connor was fine. He had not been attacked, he had fully-functioning biocomponents, and he even had friends for the first time in his life. Everything was fine.

Nothing was falling apart.

Besides, he didn’t really need sleep. Sure, it helped rest his biocomponents to spend at least 6 hours per day in stasis mode, but androids could go a while without it if they had to. Connor was pulled from his thoughts by what was probably someone trying to talk to him, but his processing unit felt sluggish, so he couldn’t be sure. 

“Connor? You daydreaming, or what?” Hank put a hand on the android’s shoulder, which finally got his attention. 

“Sorry, Lieutenant. What did you say?” Connor blinked rapidly, willing his optical units to focus. 

Hank gave him a suspicious look. “I asked if you were ready to go home.”

“Oh. Yeah, I think I’m done.” He tried to remember what he had been working on, but everything was fuzzy. 

“I thought so. You haven’t touched the computer in 20 minutes.”

[Stress Levels 34%]

“I… I apologize, Lieutenant, it seems I lost track of time.”

“More human everyday… Let’s get outta here. I’m beat.”

Connor nodded, but quickly stopped when the motion made the room spin. He forced himself to take a deep breath. 

“You good, kid?” Hank had thought something was up, but now he was sure. Connor never took a deep breath unless he was trying to stay calm. 

[Stress Levels 42%]

Connor stared at his hands. His vision was blurry and tipping randomly, and it was causing an unpleasant sensation in the biocomponent that functions similarly to a stomach. It processes any ingested Thirium and anything he samples. It wasn’t supposed to feel like this. In fact, he usually couldn’t feel it at all. Why-

“Connor, what’s wrong? You’re scaring the shit outta me.” He wasn’t moving, he wasn’t blinking, and Hank was pretty sure he had even stopped his simulated breathing—despite the fact that he had told Hank breathing helped androids regulate their temperature. It wasn’t just to appear human. “Connor!” It was a shouted whisper so as not to alert any other officers to the situation. Connor didn’t need the spotlight right now. 

[Stress Levels 61%]  
[Warning: Systems Overheating]

Connor gasped when he registered a sudden, stabbing pain in his head. There was static around the edge of his vision now, and he couldn’t process any of the words Hank was saying no matter how hard he tried.

[Stress Levels 79%]

“Dammit, Connor, focus!” Connor suddenly made direct eye contact, looking for all the world like a terrified child. “Shit, ok. We’re getting outta here. C’mon.” Hank moved to help Connor up, but hissed in pain at the heat radiating from his skin. “Fucking hell, ok, you gotta help me out here, kid. Help me get you home.”

[Stress Levels 91%]  
[Warning: Risk of Self-Destruction Increasing]  
[Warning: Thermoregulator Shutdown Imminent]

“I’m going to shut down.”

It could hardly even be called a whisper, but Hank heard it as clearly as if he’d yelled. He felt a chill run down his spine. “You’re not gonna shut down, Connor. You’re gonna be fine. What’s going on?”

[Stress Levels 97%]  
[Warning: Urgent Risk of Self-Destruction]  
[Initiating Emergency Thermoregulator Temporary Shutdown Protocol]

“M-my thermoregulator just shut down, Hank-” The room was spinning, and it was getting harder and harder to process his thoughts. His tears were evaporating off of his synthetic skin almost as fast as they fell.

Hank forced himself to sound calm. What the fuck was a thermoregulator? “You’re gonna be fine, son. Just tell me what you need.”

“Over-overheating- stress levels 97%, I can’t- Hank, I can’t calm down.” Connor was hyperventilating now, eyes darting around the room rapidly.

Hank forced himself not to panic when he remembered what 100% would mean. “Ok, ok, listen to me, kid. You’re gonna be fine. You’re gonna take a few deep breaths, and then we’re gonna go for a walk outside until you calm down and cool down. Breathe, Connor. Nice a slow.” A glance at the LED showed it spinning red so fast it almost looked like it wasn’t spinning at all. “Hey! Eyes right here.” Hank waited for Connor to look at him. “Good. Focus on me, and focus on breathing. That’s the whole world right now. Nothing else even exists. Got it?”

Connor nodded frantically. He forced himself himself to copy Hank’s exaggerated breathing.

[Stress Levels 91%]  
[Warning: Risk of Self Destruction]  
[Thermoregulator Reboot Initiated]  
[Thermoregulator Reboot Failed]

“I- I can’t reboot my thermoregulator. I’m overheating, Hank.”

Hank eyed the nearest exit, getting desperate. “We’re going outside. It’ll cool you down, ok?”

“I don’t- I don’t think I can…”

[Stress Levels 94%]

Running out of options, Hank pulled off his coat and wrapped it around his hand. Careful to keep the fabric of both his and Connor’s jackets between his hand and the furnace that was Connor’s skin, he helped the android to his feet. The heat was still painful, but at least his hand wouldn’t blister. Probably. “Ok, here we go. C’mon, kid.”

Connor didn’t answer, but he did manage to hold up most of his own weight, just leaning into Hank’s hand a bit when he got especially dizzy. By the time they made it the few feet out the door, everything was blurry and spinning. His knees finally buckled.

Hank pulled his hand away and quickly shoved it into the snow bank that Connor was now kneeling on. “Will the snow help, kid?”

Connor’s thoughts were going too fast to fully process Hank’s words, but he did manage to catch the word snow. Snow was good. Snow was cold. He let himself fall back into the snow bank and started piling it on his chest above his thermoregulator. 

[Thermoregulator Reboot Initiated]  
[Thermoregulator Reboot Successful]  
[Stress Levels 82%]

Connor closed his eyes in relief.

“You good, kid?”

Connor nodded. “I’m ok.”

Hank sighed wearily. “Screw work. I’m beat, and you look like shit. We’re going home.”

Connor didn’t argue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a vague idea of where I want to go with this, but if you have any requests/ideas, please let me know in comments!

**Author's Note:**

> What'd ya think? There's this cute little button that says kudos. That's for if you liked it. Another one says comment. That's for people who have opinions. Bookmark is for people who might ever want to read it again. Subscribe if you must, MUST know when I add a new chapter. Doing nothing is for horrible people who personally hate me. Do you personally hate me? Yeah? Ok, that's fair. Still, randomly pick a button. They solve world hunger. (They don't solve world hunger.)


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